


Date Nights

by ALovelyLitwit



Series: Reunion [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff, Happy, M/M, an episode of minor jealousy, honeymoon stage giddiness, light angst that is quickly resolved, new relationship discussions, their first Christmas together, tripp/nora discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27530833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALovelyLitwit/pseuds/ALovelyLitwit
Summary: Michael and Alex are dating now. When game nights shift to date nights, will things get easier or harder??
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Reunion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006023
Comments: 158
Kudos: 203





	1. The Crashdown

**Author's Note:**

> Absolute tooth-rotting fluff. It's the mood I'm in, friends. Future chapters will have more substance, I promise.

Alex climbs out of his Explorer and smirks at the very perplexed look on Michael’s face. The shadows and highlights cast from the firepit’s flames giving him an almost preternatural glow. Michael sets his feet down in the dirt beneath him and leans forward in his rusty patio chair. ‘I’m not due at your place for another hour.’

‘Well, it’s my turn to change things up a bit.’ He grabs the arm rests on either side of Michael and leans in for their first kiss of the night. Michael tugs at his jacket, knocking him slightly off balance and halfway onto his lap. They both laugh and Alex shivers as Michael’s TK buzzes along his skin ensuring his fall is harmless.

Michael’s arms wrap tightly around Alex’s waist as he nibbles lightly at his earlobe. ‘Haven’t seen you much this week. Work still rough?’ 

Alex settles further into his lap and rests his forehead against Michael’s temple, exhaling loudly as if it’s the first time he’s taken a breath all week. ‘Yeah. I’ve got at least another week of late nights. How’s the Max situation going?’

His hands squeeze at Alex’s hip, fingers slipping through his belt loops. ‘Nothing’s changed. We’re still trying to figure out our next play.’ He leans back to look up at Alex. ‘Speaking of, what are we doing tonight?’

‘Going to the Crashdown for dinner.’ He reluctantly slides out of Micheal’s lap and holds out his hand. ‘Game nights have become date nights.’ Michael takes his offered hand and allows Alex to pull him out of his seat. They don’t let go until they’re forced apart at Michael’s truck. Sliding inside, Alex shuts his door and watches Michael start the engine. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort to see you this week. I wanted to but knew you were busy with Isobel and Max.’

Michael glances over his shoulder as he starts to back out of the junkyard. ‘Not your fault. Getting home after 10 every night only to have to wake back up at 5 am is out of your control. Besides, I kind of liked it.’

Alex’s brow furrows deeply at that very unexpected reply. But Michael’s eyes crinkle as he huffs out half a laugh. ‘I hated not seeing you.’ He reaches for Alex’s hand again. ‘But I don’t mind the part where our first relationship glitch is something as mundane as being too busy to see each other.’ They smile across the seat at one another before Michael turns his eyes towards the open highway in front of them. ‘It’s just such a normal fucking problem and that’s a nice change of pace for us.’

‘Well, I have some thoughts about a solution.’ Michael comes to a stop at a traffic light and glances over at him. ‘You, Isobel, and Max always spend your nights at Max’s house. Maybe once or twice a week you can spend them at mine.’

The light turns green, but Michael ignores it. ‘You want me, Iz, and Max invading your space when you’re not home?’ Someone behind them honks so he finally pushes the accelerator and crosses the intersection, looking for a spot to park.

‘Just give me a heads up in advance. There’s a spot behind that Tahoe.’

Michael parks and cuts the engine off. ‘We’re sometimes up until one or two in the morning. Won’t that bother you?’ He frowns at Alex.

‘No.’ He shakes his head at Michael and smiles. ‘I’ve slept through worse than the three of you talking in my living room.’ Sliding across the bench seat, he yanks softly at the collar of Michael’s coat, pulling him into a quick, sloppy kiss. ‘It’ll be worth it when you crawl into bed beside me at the end of the night.’

Michael tilts forward suddenly, pressing their mouths back together. Alex parts his lips, welcoming the urgent, insistent push of Michael’s tongue as the kiss deepens and their hands begin to slip beneath the cotton of undershirts. In his exuberance, Michael’s elbow honks the horn and startles them both apart just as Rosa knocks on the Chevy’s window. ‘The whole diner can see you two. And I’m pretty sure no one ordered a side of you two sucking face.’

Alex feels his cheeks flush, but Michael’s shit-eating grin is contagious. ‘No one turns down a free show, Ortecho. Especially not one this good looking.’ 

They exit the truck and join Rosa on the sidewalk. She narrows her eyes at Michael. ‘Don’t get any ideas that this special treatment exists beyond tonight and nearly an hour of Alex’s groveling.’

‘Don’t forget the bribery.’ Alex grabs Michael’s hand and pulls him towards the Crashdown’s door. They follow Rosa zigzagging through the various diners and waiters before heading up the stairs and onto the roof. She hands them both menus and disappears back down the stairs without another word.

It’s windy and Michael runs his fingers through his tangled curls as he takes in their surroundings. Nothing’s different than the last time he was up here with Liz except the table set up beneath the Crashdown’s towering sign. ‘Where’d you get these?’

Alex walks over to the two single booth seats he and Rosa had hauled up earlier. ‘They were in storage. Back in high school, Liz and I used them for quiz bowl practice. We saved them from Arturo’s garbage pile when he was remodeling and tried to rehab them ourselves.’ He shakes the chair to show how much it still wobbles. ‘We definitely didn’t have your skill set.’

Michael plops down in one of the unsteady seats. ‘You were on quiz bowl? How come I don’t remember that?’

Taking the seat opposite him, Alex laughs. ‘I was an alternate. An alternate to an alternate, actually. Mostly, I just helped Liz practice because she hated everyone else on the team. How come you weren’t on the team? You’d have been so good.’

‘Wasn’t much of a joiner. But Liz and I would have cleaned up, for sure.’ He grins at Alex and then motions vaguely around them. ‘So what’s this all about? Still trying to hide me away?’ He keeps the smile tight across his face but a sharp edge has crept into his voice.

Alex shakes his head. ‘No. No, not at all. We can eat downstairs if you want. Really. I just...everything’s so new and I’m selfishly enjoying having you to all to myself. I promise.’ He reaches across the table and grabs Michael’s hand, holding on with more than a twinge of desperation. ‘Besides, we already gave everyone in the diner a free show. I don’t think they harbor any misconceptions about what’s going on up here.’

Michael squeezes his hand and gives him a reassuring smile. ‘What is going to happen up here? With all this privacy?’ He slides off the sparkly red vinyl seat and joins Alex on his, slipping his hand between Alex’s thighs and laughing at the easy way Alex opens for him. Less than a minute later, Alex pulls hard at the curls along the nape of Michael’s neck, frantically trying to gain better access to his neck. So Michael straddles him and eagerly bares his throat to Alex’s hungry mouth.

They don’t hear Rosa approaching until she claps her hands right next to both of their ears, sending Michael sprawling ungracefully to the ground. ‘I clock out in fifteen minutes. Order now or never.’

‘There are other waiters.’ Michael bends over to brush the roof’s soot off his cleanest pair of jeans. ‘Enjoy the show?’

‘Nothing I haven’t seen before, payaso.’ She smiles sweetly at Michael but leaves the evil glint in her eye fully on display. ‘Burgers and fries?’

Alex smiles sheepishly at her. ‘Sure. And one chocolate milkshake.’

Rosa spins on her heels, muttering something in spanish under her breath. Michael collapses into his own seat. ‘Maybe we should just get the food to-go. Head back to your place.’ He winks at Alex. ‘Not that I don’t appreciate the effort. It’s just that at home we could have dessert first.’

‘I’m guessing you’re not talking about my milkshake.’ He pulls his wallet from his back pocket. ‘We don’t have to go to my house. The airstream has served us fine in the past.’

Michael shakes his head and lets the corners of his mouth curl into an overt suggestion. ‘I like the way you spread me out on your giant bed.’

They lock eyes, holding on for a long, heated moment before sliding from their seats simultaneously and moving quickly to the stairwell’s door. Michael beats Alex and holds the door open for him. At the bottom of the stairs, they meet Rosa and turn her around, pushing her back towards the counter. Michael tosses their food into a to-go bag, and Alex shoves all of the money in his wallet into Rosa’s outstretched hand. ‘Thanks again.’ He kisses her quickly on the cheek before Michael roughly pulls him towards the diner’s front door. 

‘Are those two okay?’ Arturo rests his hand on Rosa’s shoulder as they both watch Michael and Alex’s frantic scramble back to Michael’s truck. 

Rosa holds up the cash in her hand. ‘They just paid $80 for $30 worth of food. Don’t ask questions, Papi.’


	2. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night turns into date morning at the Roswell public library.

‘The library?’ The brick building’s doors slide open, the scent of musty old books assaulting them immediately. Michael smirks at Alex and crosses the threshold, knowing Alex will follow. ‘We could have gone to Maria’s Mexican farmer’s market to get chilaquiles.’

Michael winks back at him. ‘I’ll make you chilaquiles, baby. But first, the library.’

Alex searches through his memories trying to remember the last time he’d set foot in Roswell’s tiny public library. Not a single memory comes to mind. ‘How is this a replacement for date night? Are you going to read something dirty to me? Does this library actually own anything dirty you could read to me?’

Ignoring him, Michael settles at a computer next to the microfiche reader. Alex frowns down at him, an image of Forrest flashing through his mind. ‘Are you researching something?’ He grabs a chair and slides it over, sitting down with a sigh. ‘I can help. At home with my super computer. And your chilaquiles. And my bed close enough to be distracting.’

Still no response from Michael so Alex lets his eyes wander over the stacks and stacks of endless books. A strange guilt settles over him when he thinks about how little he reads these days despite how much he used to love cracking the spine of a new novel. ‘Do you think I should get a library card? I’ve never had one because I like to destroy the books I read. But maybe a library card would get me back into the habit.’

Michael smashes the keyboard in front of him proudly, sliding the monitor towards Alex and pointing to the screen. ‘My items are ready to be checked out.’ The grin that spreads across his face scares Alex because there’s an obvious taunt curled in the corners of his lips. ‘Let’s go to the front desk. You can get a library card and I can pick up my stuff.’

The librarian sets a large stack of books in front of Michael and gives Alex a form to fill out, asking for his driver’s license. He darts his eyes over to Michael’s stack and notices the book on top is about astrophysics. Nothing odd about that so he returns his gaze to the task in front of him.

Once they’re done, Michael pulls him back into the belly of the library. ‘I need to use their copy machine. It’s the cheapest in town seeing as to how it’s free.’

‘Okay, maybe I’ll go search for a book to read.’ He holds up his new library card grinning. ‘I feel like I’m in kindergarten again, but like, in a good way.’

Michael returns his smile and pulls out his phone to take a picture. ‘You’re cute. But you have to come with me first. There’s something I want to show you.’ 

Alex follows him back to a small room stuffed with the largest copy machine he’s ever seen in his life. ‘Wow. Where did Roswell get this kind of money?’

‘Education grant. Isobel was on the Chaves County Library Board. Pretty sure she wanted this copier for her own nefarious purposes. But maybe that’s just me being a very uncharitable brother.’ He lifts the lid of the copier and flattens one of his books across the surface.

Hopping up onto the small table next to the copier, Alex plays a game on his phone while Michael does whatever it is he’s doing. A comfortable silence settles around them until Michael slides onto the table next to him and shoves a warm sheet of paper in front of his phone. 

Alex’s eyes grow wide once the newly copied image on the white, glossy photo paper comes into focus enough for him to recognize the picture of himself. A picture of himself circa the mid-nineties, hair gelled flat and a clip-on tie half-hanging off his collar. ‘What the actual fuck, Michael? Where did you get this?’

Michael grins like he just won the lottery. ‘From this.’ He drops the Roswell Elementary yearbook onto Alex’s lap and nudges him with his shoulder. ‘And there’s lots more where that came from.’ He hands over several more yearbooks, from first grade through eighth. ‘I’m already well-versed in the high school photos, obviously.’

‘But why though?’ He absentmindedly flips through the cheaply published pages, cringing every time a photo of himself flashes by. ‘Some things deserve to be nothing more than a memory. A very, very distant memory.’

‘The best part is the gap between your teeth. It’s adorable and you should have kept it.’ Alex glares at him and sets the yearbooks aside, eyebrows arched in an open question. Michael leans in and kisses the corner of his furiously bent brow. ‘I wanted us to have this moment.’

‘What moment? This moment of extreme embarrassment for baby Alex?’ He holds the photo of himself up, distress creasing his face.

Michael’s grin only grows wider, all his teeth now fully on display. ‘Yes. In the movies Isobel likes to watch, couples always get this moment where they meet each other’s parents and are forced through dozens of photo albums filled with the most embarrassing pictures from their childhoods.’ His grin falters and his voice lowers. ‘Me and you aren’t going to get that moment.’ He locks eyes with Alex and lets the truth in his words hang heavy between them. ‘Not like in the movies, anyway. But I can give us this.’ He raises his hips off the table and pulls something from his back pocket, handing it to Alex.

‘Oh my god.’ It’s another school picture but this time of Michael, curls everywhere and eyes full of fear. ‘How old were you here?’

‘Seven. Only a few months after we were found. I didn’t even really speak yet. It took me awhile. Longer than Max or Iz who, according to their own stories, were chatterboxes by the time they started school.’ He takes the two photos from Alex and holds them side-by-side. ‘I thought maybe we could frame them. Create a new history for ourselves. One where we get to be two little boys with so much love waiting for them in the future.’ His voice breaks and Alex wraps his arms around him, hugging him tighter than ever before.

A knock at the door pulls them apart. A woman in pink glasses and a black cardigan wags her finger at them accusingly. Michael gives her a thumbs up. ‘That’s Ms Doris. Don’t worry. She loves me.’

Alex settles back against the wall and looks at Michael, taking in every inch of his face from his chapped lips to the one rebellious curl refusing to obey. He thinks of a million different things he could say in this moment, but only one of them feels right. ‘I love you so much. I should have said that every day since the first day.’

Tears burn at his eyes and Michael reaches up to wipe them away. ‘I love you too. And we both should have said it every day since the first day.’ He kisses Alex soft and slow, daring Miss Doris to look back through the window. ‘Now let’s get you a book and go home. I’ll make you chilaquiles while you learn how to read again.’

‘Asshole.’ There’s no animosity in his voice. Only love.

Back in the stacks, Alex decides to blindly choose a mystery novel from the shelves. He glances over at Michael flipping through his book on astrophysics. ‘That wasn’t the first time Ms Doris caught you wrapped around someone in this library, was it?’

Michael smiles down at a colorful chart of the stars. ‘Might have happened off and on for the past fifteen years. I’ve always cleaned up good at the library.’

Alex practically throws himself in Michael’s arms, kissing him squarely on the mouth as they collapse against the creaky metal shelves. ‘You’re such a shit.’

For a minute, they get lost in each other. Forgetting where they are entirely. Happy for the whole world to see them pressed together if it means this is what their life gets to look like from now until forever. But true to her reputation, Ms Doris soon finds them and shoos them from the stacks, personally escorting them to the check-out desk with a severe frown Alex suspects is permanently etched into the lines of her face. But as he hands his book to the librarian behind the counter, Alex doesn’t miss the barely there smile she gives Michael as she squeezes his elbow and disappears, returning to her patrol.

Michael turns back to him, hand outstretched. ‘Ready?’

‘Ready.’ Alex nods and threads their fingers together. ‘On the way home, let’s stop by the thrift store on Main. They always have a good selection of frames.’

‘Okay, but nothing with aliens. Or the words Live, Laugh, Love.’ Alex snorts as the doors close behind them.


	3. Alex's Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night gets diverted into Alex's bedroom where an important discussion briefly derails their fun.

The hour for date night had come and gone not at all noticed by either Michael or Alex. Probably because Alex had answered the door half-naked and still dripping wet from his hurried, after-work shower. Or maybe it was the new olive green sweater Michael had been wearing, the color bringing out his eyes and slapping Alex in the face. Whatever the reason, they’d fallen into Alex’s bed less than one minute after quick hellos and blatant lustful stares. 

It had been a long week and the science exhibit at the Roswell Museum of Modern Art wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Date night could wait.

‘You smell different.’ Michael nips at the lowest of Alex’s ribs, enjoying his sharp inhale and noticeable flinch. ‘Earthier.’ He bites at Alex again, harder this time and it earns him a harsh yank at his hair. ‘I like it. A lot.’

Alex pushes roughly at Michael’s shoulders, flipping him onto his back and straddling his waist. ‘New soap. They were out of my regular.’ He leans forward to press their chests together and repeats his action from earlier, jerking at Michael’s curls until his throat is fully exposed. Tracing Michael’s adam's apple with his tongue, he shifts his weight backward, grinding his bare ass against the crotch of Michael’s jeans and gasping at the friction, denim rough against his naked skin. ‘Why are your pants still on?’

‘You got distracted earlier, remember?’ Michael sits up abruptly, sliding an arm around Alex’s waist to keep him from toppling over.

Michael’s teeth tug lightly at one of his nipples, and it takes Alex a while to respond. ‘It wasn’t me who got distracted, Guerin. You’re the one who dropped to his knees where I could no longer reach that damn belt buckle.’

They both laugh, and then Michael suddenly falls quiet. Hand gently sliding around the base of Alex’s throat. Alex swallows, not knowing what to make of Michael’s fingers wrapping around his neck. But he waits, trusting Michael implicitly. 

‘Tripp’s dog tags. They’re gone.’

It’s not what Alex had expected him to say, but he’s also not surprised that Michael noticed. ‘Yeah. They’re in the box with mine. On the top shelf of my closet.’ He massages his hands up Michael’s biceps and along his shoulders, resting his palms flat against Michael’s chest. ‘That’s where they belong.’

‘But Tripp means so much to you.’

‘I wanted Tripp to mean something to me. And he does. I just didn’t realize what he meant until recently.’ He clears his throat, fingertips tapping nervously at Michael’s collarbones. They haven’t talked much about Michael’s mom, and he’s unsure whether now’s the right time. Or even if there is a right time. ‘I don’t know how to talk about this.’

‘About my mom?’ Alex nods. ‘I want to talk about her. Especially with you.’ 

‘I let Tripp’s story get in the way of Nora’s. I wanted so badly to see the good in him that I didn’t see the harm he’d caused. The harm he’d allowed to happen to her for decades. Or, really, I ignored it.’ His hands move up to cradle Michael’s neck, fingertips disappearing into his curls. Emotion floods his face, forehead wrinkling. ‘If it was you in Caulfield, I’d never stop trying to get you out. I’d try every day. A million times. Until they locked me up next to you or --’

‘Or you died trying. I know.’

‘Tripp did nothing. Your mom deserved so much better. She deserved the sun on her face and the moon in her eyes and every single wish she’d ever wished on a star. She deserved you. To watch you grow up.’ Michael reaches up to run his fingers through Alex’s pillow-mussed hair while Alex’s arms wrap around him tight, nose buried in his neck. They sit holding each other for a long time, sifting through the ripple effects of their shared history.

Abruptly, Alex leans forward to grab something out of the top drawer of his nightstand. ‘When I finished reading the journal, I found this.’ He hands an old black and white photo to Michael. ‘She looks so happy and so much like you.’

The photo is of Nora mid-laugh. Head tossed back, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. Her happiness radiates off the page, and Michael can’t stop the tears that burn at the corners of his eyes. ‘It was a mess. Stuck between two pages, image garbled and half-gone. But you can find anything on the internet, so I looked into photo restoration and shipped it off. Got it back this morning.’

Michael runs his fingers over the picture, marveling at how complete and perfect it looks. ‘Thank you, Alex.’

‘You’re welcome. I didn’t really do much, but since we’ve started collecting old photos, I figured this one would be a great addition.’ They both glance over to the top of Alex’s dresser - really _their_ dresser these days - where their yearbook photos sit in simple walnut frames that Michael had ended up making himself. ‘Or you can take it with you to the Airstream or wherever you want.’ Alex smiles at him and caresses the bare skin above the waistline of his jeans.

‘I like it here.’ He climbs out from underneath Alex’s lap and sets the picture of Nora next to his own. And it’s instantly clear how right Alex was. He really does look so much like this mother.

He steps out of his jeans before returning to straddle Alex’s lap, sighing at how satisfying it is to press their bare skin together. At how the magic in their touch never seems to dissipate no matter how many years go by. He kisses Alex quick and filthy, all tongue and teeth, pulling back with a loud smack of their lips. ‘Since I don’t think you’re ever going to get there on your own, I’m going to fill you in on a stupidly obvious secret.’

‘Yeah? What’s that?’

Michael cups Alex’s neck in his hands. ‘You are the good Manes man.’ He runs his thumbs along Alex’s jawbone, enjoying the scrub of stubble. ‘Fuck the past. There’s nothing we can do about it. But we get to make our future. And our kids will be the best of both of us.’

Alex’s eyes blow wide, and Michael knows it was a risk to say that out loud so soon in their beginning. The last time he’d mentioned wanting kids to Alex must have been high school. The days of agricultural engineering, dad bands, and dreams that hadn’t yet died.

‘Our kids?’ Alex swallows around the words. ‘Yours and mine? Ours...together?’

He tries not to jump straight to panic at the uncertainty in Alex’s voice. Tries not to worry that maybe Alex doesn’t think he’ll be a good dad which is what he sometimes worries too. Squaring his shoulders, he tells the truth. ‘That’s what I want.’ He needs to ask Alex if that’s what he wants too, but the words get stuck like putty in the back of his throat. 

Alex’s eyes dart to the pictures on the dresser and then back to Michael. ‘You’ll be a great dad. Any kid would be so lucky to have you.’ He grabs Michael’s hands that are still clasped at his neck and pulls them down over his heart. ‘Your hands were made to build, to hold, to love.’

Michael threads their fingers together and kisses the backs of Alex’s hands. ‘And yours were made to protect, to create, to love.’ The air between them has grown thick with meaning. He laughs to relieve the tension. ‘I don’t mean tomorrow. We should probably start with a puppy. Or maybe a fish.’ That finally pulls a smile from Alex. 

‘When you showed me the yearbook photo of you, my first thought was that I’d want our kids to look like you. That mess of curls, those big, hazel eyes.’ His smile stretches up to his eyes. ‘So yeah. That’s what I want too. One day. And we can tell them all about their amazing, brilliant Grandma Nora.’

Michael tackles Alex into the pillows beneath them, picking up directly where they’d left off.


	4. The Christmas Tree Farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has the perfect Christmas tree in mind. Alex isn't so sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but every time I post one of these chapters I get incredibly nervous.

‘Are you really going to chop down a tree?’ Alex eyes him warily from the opposite side of the Chevy’s bench seat. ‘There’s plenty of lovely trees that have been pre-chopped.’

Michael climbs out of the truck, reaching into the bed to grab his shiny new ax. ‘Yes. I am definitely chopping down a tree today.’ He settles the ax’s handle over his shoulder and sets off in the direction of the neatly planted fir trees.

Alex trudges after him, stepping carefully through the melting snow. He catches up easily because Michael keeps stopping at every single tree to assess its ‘curvature’. ‘This one looks perfect.’ He points to the tree behind Michael, and it earns him an exasperated frown.

‘The bottom is not bushy enough.’ Alex furrows his brow, and Michael motions around the tree like he’s going to hug it. ‘The circumference is lacking.’ He circles around the tree to further make his point. ‘I didn’t move your heavy ass keyboard out of the way for such a sad, puny little Charlie Brown Christmas tree.’

The ‘sad, puny’ tree is literally eight feet tall.

‘You mean when you moved my heavy ass keyboard with your brain and didn’t break a sweat?’ Alex smirks at him fondly. 

‘That’s not the point.’

Alex snorts. ‘I’m going to go get some apple cider. Want any?’

Michael’s already moved three trees down, but he shouts yes over his shoulder and throws in a request for an apple cruller. ‘I’ll find the perfect tree, Alex! She’s here somewhere.’ He’s now nothing more than a disembodied voice.

The line for apple cider isn’t terribly long. Alex scrolls through his text messages while he waits, rolling his eyes at a vaguely threatening message from Isobel demanding their attendance at her pre-Christmas dinner in a few hours. He responds by telling her they’ll try to be there knowing exactly what her face will look like when she reads the word _try_. 

He buys the largest-sized cider, pays for two crullers, and heads back toward the spot he’d left Michael. The tree farm is much busier now - kids laughing and running zigzags through the trees, chainsaws roaring, and couples everywhere arguing over which tree is best. It takes him ages to find Michael, deep down a row of giant firs and talking to a man Alex doesn’t recognize. The way he towers over Michael sets every nerve in Alex’s body on high alert.

The stranger has his back to Alex. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and olive-skinned. Like Michael, he’s got a cowboy hat situated on his head and dusty work boots on his feet. Alex doesn’t need him to turn around to know the man is unfairly gorgeous. All he needs to see is that familiar lopsided smile spread across Michael’s face and the way his eyes keep dropping bashfully to the ground. Out of habit and maybe a pinch of something far more complicated than jealousy, he assesses the man’s body for hidden weapons, but there’s no way to truly know what’s under his burly, fleece-lined coat. 

‘Got the cider. Who’s this?’ He steps beside Michael and turns to the stupidly attractive bear of a man. Big green eyes and a smattering of freckles putting a scowl on Alex’s face.

‘Ah, this is Jamie Whitley.’ There’s uncertainty in Michael’s voice and that sets Alex even more on edge, hackles raised. He passes off the cider and crullers to Michael, ostensibly to shake Jamie Whitley’s enormous hands. But really he just feels better and more prepared with both his hands free. ‘Jamie and I worked as ranch hands together a couple of summers a few years back.’

‘Had a real shitty foreman. Seems like we were always in some kind of trouble. But we were also the best workers that man had. Maybe ever.’ His voice is gruff, smoky. The kind of voice Alex has always envied when he’s singing. Jamie beams at Michael while he shakes Alex’s hand, grip firm and unyielding. Alex assumes it’s a warning and squares his shoulders, unconsciously sliding a step closer to Michael.

Michael reaches out and squeezes Alex’s elbow. ‘Jamie, this is Alex Manes. My boyfriend.’ It’s the first time he’s heard Michael call him that to someone other than their circle of friends. He says it so sure and certain that Alex takes a deep breath and lets go of some of the tension in his shoulders.

Jamie’s eyes dart to Alex, obvious recognition flooding his features. ‘ _The_ Alex Manes?’ He narrows his eyes at Alex, sizing him up differently now that he has a name to go along with the face. ‘I used to hear a lot about you.’

‘I’m sure I deserved most of it.’ Alex’s jaw clenches, and Michael digs his fingernails into his bicep.

‘Well, it was a long time ago. People change. And this one always loved you, no matter what.’ He leans in to hug Michael goodbye, forcing Alex aside a couple of steps. Michael’s arms flail out to the side, hands still full of cider and cruller. But he smiles gently at Alex over Jamie’s shoulder, and Alex returns the smile, starting to feel a little silly. ‘It’s great seeing you again, Guerin. You look good. Real good.’

With nothing more than a nod at Alex, he disappears from sight.

‘So you two definitely fucked.’ Alex takes one of the crullers from Michael’s hand. He does his best to keep anything remotely negative out of his voice. But he knows he hasn’t been entirely successful.

Michael gulps at the cider. ‘On and off. But mostly, Jamie was a friend. It was after you left for Afghanistan. Your second tour.’

Alex nods. ‘That was a rough goodbye.’

‘They were all rough goodbyes.’ It’s said so low Alex almost doesn’t hear him. ‘Look, Alex.’ He stares after Jamie’s footprints in the snow. ‘That was weird as fuck and -- ‘

‘Hey.’ Alex places what he hopes is a calming hand on Michael’s chest. ‘It’s fine. And I should have been friendlier. I’m actually really glad you had someone. That giant man wouldn’t have necessarily been my first choice, but -- ‘

Michael laughs, still a little uneasy but his shoulders relax. ‘I found the perfect tree. She reminds me of you.’ He swallows his cruller in three bites and then grabs Alex’s wrist, dragging him through a few rows of trees.

They stop in front of the biggest tree on the lot. At least fifteen feet tall and slightly terrifying in its girth. ‘How exactly does this tree remind you of me? I feel like it’s going to eat us.’

‘Well, yeah.’ He elbows Alex playfully in the ribs. ‘Protective. Strong, slightly imposing, barrel-bodied. And beautiful.’

‘The shit that comes out of your mouth sometimes, Guerin.’ But he’s smiling and Michael is smiling and then they are kissing. Easily losing themselves in each other as is so often the case. Only barely managing to stay on this side of public decency before they are interrupted by two kids bursting through their tangled legs as they chase each other around the farm. 

They both grin after the kids and turn back to Michael’s perfect Christmas tree. ‘You know, my ceilings aren’t tall enough for this tree.’

‘That’s okay. This is the patio tree. Once I chop this one down, we can start looking for our indoor tree.’ He grabs the ax he’s left sitting under the tree and rears back to take his first swing. Alex walks several feet away and watches Michael wedge the ax into the trunk, barely making a scratch. ‘Huh. Harder than I thought. I should probably just go find someone with a chainsaw.’

Alex snorts his agreement, taking the ax from Michael as he sets off to search for help. He reaches up to tug on one of the Douglas fir’s branches, a little overwhelmed at the idea of spending their first Christmas together. But good overwhelmed. Like the first time he’d left the ground in an A-10 Warthog, the sky opening up so vast and endless. The sun only a heartbeat away.

He loves Michael. And Michael loves him. These nine weeks of work they’ve put in to get them to this moment, where Alex can stand in front of a Christmas tree with pure joy in his heart rather than abject terror, are the best nine weeks of his life. Standing in front of this tree - _their_ tree - he vows that come Christmas morning, Michael will know with every fiber of his being just how much Alex loves him. And Christmas will be theirs forever, happy and so filled with joy that even the Evanses will be sick with envy.

It’s not the most gracious thought Alex has ever had. But then again, he’s never been the most gracious person. And for once in his life, he decides that’s okay.


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex wakes up on Christmas morning too excited to let Michael sleep in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Thanks for reading. This series has been so much fun to write. And I stayed very 'on brand' with this ending. Happy Holidays!

Alex wakes up on Christmas morning at 4 am, unable to fall back asleep due to a mixture of nerves and excitement. Sliding out of bed slowly, he tucks the duvet around Michael and pulls on sweatpants as quietly as possible before heading into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

While the coffee maker works, he plugs in the Christmas tree and the garland over the mantle, admiring the twinkling lights and carefully chosen ornaments. For Christmas this year, they’d gathered with their friends and family early and exchanged ornaments. Liz’s gift had been a cowboy alien, glow in the dark and bearing no resemblance at all to Michael. Rosa’s had been a beautiful glass bulb she’d hand-painted with the cosmos. Kyle’s a simple wood-carved _Merry Christmas_. Rosa had gotten a hold of it and painted it with various iconography of the holidays - lights, Santa hats, and reindeer faces. 

Max’s had been a collection of simple red Christmas bells, their jingle light and tinkling whenever either of them accidentally bumped into the tree. Isobel’s expensive and crystal - a star with swirls that reminded everyone of the console tech in Michael’s bunker. Maria had given them a giant, purple eggplant ornament as a joke, but they’d still hung it on the tree anyway. Smiling fondly every time their eyes landed on it. She’d followed the joke with a gorgeous, brightly-beaded patchwork that she said reminded her of how she felt when their love bled over into her sight - colorful, lacking definition, and like the calm that only comes after the storm.

Michael and Alex had chosen the rest themselves. A mixture of whimsy and classic Christmas. It was hodgepodge and lacked any real thematic structure, but it was also beautiful, filled with love, and _theirs_.

Back in the kitchen, Alex hops up on the corner of the counter and sips at his coffee. He had planned to let Michael sleep in for once, to cook him breakfast and spend the rest of the day either in bed or wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Keeping his gift for Michael a secret until sunset. But that’s not going to happen. He’s too keyed up. Too anxious to wait.

Pouring a second cup, he heads into the bedroom and sets the coffee on Michael’s nightstand. He finishes getting dressed so that it’s less likely Michael will be able to seduce him back into bed, and then gently shakes him awake. It’s not even 5 am yet so he’s not surprised when Michael mildly panics at being woken up while it’s still dark outside. ‘What’s wrong?’ He reaches out to palm at Alex, needing to make sure he’s okay.

‘Nothing’s wrong, but I need you to wake up.’ 

Michael’s eyes crack open and he blinks away the sleep before responding. ‘What? Why? We were going to sleep in.’ His voice is soft and groggy.

Alex grabs the coffee and hands it to him, hoping the warm drink will lure him into a sitting position. ‘I know, but I’m too excited to wait. I want to give you your Christmas present right now.’

It works. Michael sits up to sip his coffee and stare at Alex skeptically. ‘You’re making me nervous. You’ve got that look Isobel gets when she’s about to do something _she_ loves but everyone else hates.’

‘Wow, Guerin. And to think I was going to scramble eggs while you showered.’

‘I’m much rather you join me. Eggs can wait.’ He slides his hand very suggestively up Alex’s thigh but gets his hand lightly slapped before he can do any real damage.

‘Nope. I’m not letting you get me naked. Not yet anyway. Now, go get ready.’

‘Okay. Now I’m definitely worried. When have you ever turned down sex? I can’t recall a single time.’ Alex swats his ass as he heads toward the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Michael pads into the kitchen where Alex hands him a bowl of scrambled eggs smothered with melted cheese and freshly chopped chives. ‘Eat fast.’ Alex’s own bowl is already half empty.

He only takes a couple of careful bites. Not because the eggs aren’t good - they’re great. It’s just that Alex is not the big gesture type, and Michael’s not great at receiving gifts of any kind, large or small. 

‘Alex?’ He doesn’t know how to ask what he’s about to ask.

‘Hmm?’ He’s finished his breakfast. Sitting on the counter, phone in hand. Probably texting all their friends _Merry Christmas_.

Michael takes a steadying breath. ‘This isn’t...I mean, this gift isn’t...a proposal, right?’ The thing is he’s racked his brain two days trying to figure out what Alex has been so anxious about. Two days of his brain circling back to this conclusion every time. A proposal. Some giant gesture. Something so unlike Alex. 

And to be honest, the idea of marrying Alex isn’t what makes him nervous. It’s the idea that Alex is only doing this because he thinks that’s what Michael wants him to do or needs him to do or some reason equally as unsatisfying. Because Alex’s meticulous, risk assessing brain cannot possibly think getting engaged so soon is a good idea.

The look on Alex’s face is hard to read. He’s tucked his phone back into his pocket and his lips have thinned like he’s trying to smile but forgot how. When he finally speaks his voice is low. Undeniably sad. ‘No, Michael. It’s not a proposal. Not really. But I guess you could say it’s not _not_ a proposal.’

Alex slides gingerly off the counter, landing on his left foot and unable to meet Michael’s eye. That’s when he knows he’s messed up.

‘I didn’t mean anything by that. I just don’t want you to feel pressured to do something you aren’t ready for yet.’

‘You still doubt me. That’s fair.’ He rinses his bowl in the sink, keeping his back turned. ‘Well, it’s a good thing I hadn’t planned to propose then. Maybe we should just head to the Pony instead. Help Maria set up the charity lunch.’ There’s a tremble in his voice that Michael hates.

Alex starts to walk past him, but Michael grabs his elbow, spinning him back around. ‘Hey. Hey, hey, hey. I don’t doubt that you want this as much as I do. But I do think you’d ignore your own feelings to put mine first. I want us to be on the same page. That’s all.’

Tears burn at the corner of Alex’s eyes. Michael reaches his hand up to brush them away, but Alex takes several steps back, swiping at them with the back of his hands. ‘You’re right. I don’t make big gestures. They terrify me. This terrifies me - that I did this thing without your permission. So I’ve been a nervous wreck for weeks. Worried that you would say no or laugh or something else you would never do but that my brain wouldn’t shut up about. And now, I’m pretty sure I messed up. Let’s just forget about it and go help Maria.’

He leaves the kitchen, grabbing his coat off the dining room table. Michael doesn’t move until he hears the front door open and close. The door slams shut hard enough that the windows rattle over Alex’s keyboard, and Michael’s knuckles whiten as he grips the countertop. 

This scene an all too familiar memory. Emotions high and Alex skittering away. 

Taking a deep breath, he tells himself _no_. This is different. _They_ are different.

Alex hasn’t run away. He’s just outside waiting, getting some fresh air and calming down. Clearing his head. Because that’s what they do now. They take breaks when needed, but there’s no running.

Michael stuffs his feet inside his boots and drops his hat on his head, coat in his hand. He finds Alex exactly where he expects to, huddled inside his Explorer and the engine already running. When he opens the passenger side door, Alex even manages a weak smile. ‘Sorry.’

‘No sorrys.’ He buckles his seatbelt and reaches across to squeeze Alex’s thigh. ‘We have plenty of time to help Maria. I want my gift.’

Alex nods but doesn’t move to leave. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, biding his time. Michael settles back in his seat to wait. 

‘Promise me something.’ His fingers stop their tapping.

‘Anything.’

He shifts toward Michael as best he can with his seatbelt fastened. ‘If you don’t like the gift for any reason whatsoever, you’ll tell me.’

There’s no running and there’s no lying. ‘I promise.’

The drive out to wherever they’re going is quiet. Christmas music plays faintly through the speakers, but neither of them says anything. Michael’s not a fan of the tension between them, but the lack of anger or sharp words proves -- at least to him -- that they’ve really accomplished something by working hard to get to this softer place. 

He watches Alex out of the corner of his eye. Eyes fixed on the road ahead and mind whirling. Every so often he takes a measured breath, loudly exhaling. The most obvious sign that he’s been back in therapy for a couple of months now. Michael aches to climb into his lap and soothe away all his worries, all his fears. But until he knows what this gift is, he knows he can’t.

About half a mile from Foster’s Ranch, Alex pulls the car off the road, coming to a sudden stop at the chained gates of the old Ellison property. Michael watches him climb out of the car and walk a few feet onto the ranch, ignoring the half-dozen no trespassing signs. 

Worried that he’s about to have a panic attack, Michael follows him. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and studying his face. Nothing seems wrong, his breathing even. ‘You alright?’

‘Yeah. What do you know about Ellison’s Ranch?’ His eyes dart back to the locked gate. 

It’s a strange question, but maybe he needs a distraction. Michael’s happy to comply. ‘Uh, Old Man Ellison was a bigger dick than Foster. Died earlier this year. No family so the property was supposed to go for auction. About a hundred acres, give or take.’ He shrugs.

‘Hundred and one.’

‘What?’

Alex motions to the wide open expanse ahead of them. ‘One hundred and one acres exactly. Homestead property, used by the Ellison’s for horse breeding mostly.’

‘Okay.’ Michael’s not sure where he’s headed with any of this. ‘Ellison hated trespassers.’ He points back to the signs. ‘His ghost is likely to murder us if we stand here too long.’ He laughs at his own joke knowing how much Alex hates even the mention of ghosts.

But Alex just keeps staring straight into the distance. ‘We’re not trespassing.’

‘Signs beg to differ. We should just keep going, Alex. There’s nothing out here but dirt.’ He turns to head back to the Explorer, hoping Alex will do the same.

‘I bought this place at auction last month. Signed the final papers Wednesday morning. We’re not trespassing. It’s ours. Merry Christmas, Guerin.’

Michael stops dead in his tracks, spins slowly around. Alex’s hands are now in his pockets, shoulders tense. ‘What?’ He rejoins him, wrapping his fingers around Alex’s bicep. ‘You had this kind of money?’

‘No.’ He risks a quick glance at Michael and then back out toward the mountains. ‘It’s the money from my dad’s estate.’

‘Your dad left you his estate?’ That’s the wildest thing he’s said all morning.

Alex snorts. ‘Fuck, no. He didn’t leave me anything. Left almost everything to Clay, a bit to Greg. His weapons collection to Flint. Nothing to me.’

That checks out. Entirely expected. But rage boils just beneath the surface of Michael’s skin anyway. Alex is and always has been the best of them. And even if he is biased, that’s still the truth. ‘Then how?’

‘The auction notice was in the paper one morning when I was having breakfast with Greg. We talked about it. I mentioned how perfect the acreage was -- meant more for residential living than farming or ranching. Mentioned wanting something like this for me and you.’ He smiles, a real one this time. Full-bodied and bright. ‘A week later they wired me the money. Greg wanted nothing to do with dad’s legacy, and Clay wanted nothing to do with any of us, really.’

Michael gawks at him. Mouth agape and eyes wide. ‘It was enough?’

Alex nods. ‘For the property, yeah. Razing that old farmhouse and building a home of our own? That’s going to be up to us.’

‘A home of our own?’ He knows he sounds like an idiot. Repeating Alex’s simple words back at him. But that’s the best he’s got at the moment. 

‘I thought maybe we could design a space that works for both of us. A space adaptable to my mobility needs, roomy enough to have friends stay whenever they want. A home meant for a family with a couple of kids.’ He pauses, lets that sink in. ‘A dog or two. Maybe some chickens and goats out back. Horses, even. Since there are already stables.’

Michael steps behind him, pressing his chest into Alex’s back and wrapping his arms firmly around his waist. ‘Keep going.’

‘A workshop for you. One that’s not buried in the ground. Where the sun shines on your face and the stars guide you at night. A soundproof studio for me so I don’t bother anyone trying to sleep. And anything else, Michael. Anything else you want.’ His voice falters the tiniest bit, low and strained with emotion. Another measured breath. ‘It’s too much. Right?’

Yes.

But the thing is, Michael can see everything Alex described. The house, the workshop, the studio. Even the goddamn horses. And all of that is nice. Perfect. The best dream imaginable. But what sells him is the mention of kids. _Their_ kids. Their kids growing up here. Safe and loved. Chasing after chickens and crying over skint knees. Michael holding his little girl’s hand as she wobbles down the steps desperate to run after the dog while Alex follows with their son in his arms.

Suddenly, his mother’s words come to him, unbidden from where he’d locked them away. The words he’d kept for himself. _Don’t be afraid to fight for your own happiness, my love._ How easily she’d seen through him and known exactly what he needed to hear.

So, he fights. 

‘Yes.’ He whispers the words directly into Alex’s ear. ‘But we’ve always been too much. Me and you. Why stop now?’

Michael kisses down Alex’s neck and holds him tighter while the sun climbs higher overhead, illuminating the desert morning stretching out around them. Cars pass behind them on the highway and somewhere in the distance, a rooster crows. He replays the scene in his head again -- their little girl tumbling down the stairs, Alex snuggling their son into giggles. 

Alex has made him this promise, and now it’s his turn.

‘Hey, Alex.’

‘Hmm?’ Michael knows he’s lost in his own daydream. Perhaps the exact same one.

‘Marry me.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm @litwitlady on Tumblr.


End file.
